Golden
by Sallychan-Stories
Summary: A series of stories about Jacques and Josée's life growing up together! Chapter order may change to keep things in chronological order. Individual chapter ratings and content warnings will be at the beginning of the chapters! :') [Chronological chapter order: 1/2/6/4/5/3]
1. Humble Beginnings

**Summary:** Jacques is chosen for something very important.

 **Rating: K**

 **Warnings: None**

* * *

Jacques gripped at his jacket with his tiny, eight-year-old fingers, uncharacteristically nervous about going to practice today. His mother had told him that his skating instructor wanted to talk to him about something important and "special", but he couldn't figure out if that was supposed to be good or bad. He knew he was good—the best boy in the class, he was told—but still he worried that maybe he had messed up somehow. He'd already botched his little league hockey try-outs the past two years, much to his father's discontent, because he would much rather spin and jump on the ice than chase a puck around on it. He pushed his nose to the icy window and fogged it with a sigh as they pulled into the rink parking lot.

His mother unloaded him from the back seat and guided him through a maze of snowy cars, his tiny skates dangling in her opposite hand.

"Don't look worried _mon grand_ ," She assured him with a pat. "—you are not in trouble. In fact, you're being considered for something _very important._ "

Jacques wasn't sure that made him feel better.

As they entered the rink's main hall he could see the instructor talking to another family by the check-in counter. He didn't need to look very hard to tell it was the youngest student in the class—Josée Bonnet, accompanied as always by her mother. He had never talked to her much, except for when he introduced himself to her when they practiced pair skating last week. In fact, none of the children in the class really spoke to her, since her mother seemed to corral her away from the other students before and after lessons. But he knew that while she was the youngest student, she was also the most talented. She could skate circles around all the other students, and she was only six years old! The instructor noticed them and wave them over cheerfully.

"Jacques!" She smiled and bent down to greet him better. "I'm so happy to see you! I've got great news."

Jacques looked up at her, before looking up to his mother and shying behind her leg slightly.

"What?" He managed, still wary but much more curious now. She beamed brighter.

"Josée here is planning on going into couples' figure skating, and she needs a partner—and you're the most gifted boy in the class! You two were wonderful together last week. What do you think?"

Jacques blinked in surprise. He wasn't sure what to think of the proposition—or was it more of a command than a request? He looked to Josée to see her response, but she looked as serious as ever, black eyes staring at him as though she was judging his very core. He straightened a little at that, trying to look less meek. Josée's mother spoke up.

"He is the best boy in the class for you to practice with Josée." She pointed out, resting her hand on the little girl's shoulder. Josée's bottom lip sucked up slightly, nose crinkling in thought, but her eyes kept straight on him, even squinting a little as she finished her assessment of the boy in front of her.

"But _mama_ —" She started, her voice as soft and small as she was. "—he is _**ugly**_ _,_ _mama!_ "

Jacques gasped in disbelief as she clenched her fists and huffed out the end of her comment. She stomped a tiny foot on the concrete, concerning the instructor, but not her mother.

"He is too _ugly_ to dance with me! We have to be _beautiful!_ " She yelled, drawing attention from some of the other parents in the hallway. Jacques's lip was already trembling pathetically and his eyes brimming with tears from her first comment. With the second, he burst into a loud, high-pitched sob, wailing into his hands as he took in a deep breath. Josée crinkled her nose again.

"And he is a _baby,_ _mama!_ Look how he cries—!" Josée whined, but her mother stopped her with a strong stare.

"He is your best option for now Josée. We will find a more handsome boy later, if we must." Her voice was stern. Josée huffed a few more times before looking at the hiccupping boy again. After a moment she sighed angrily and crossed her arms in a pout.

"Fine." She closed her eyes and stepped toward him, making him wipe away at his face in a panic. His mother watched in concern as Josée stopped directly in front of him. He sniffed, watching her cautiously. She opened her eyes and stared up at him.

" _Don't mess me up,_ and we'll get along fine." Josée closed her eyes again, this time more calmly.

He sniffed one more time to regain some composure.

"O.. okay." He tried to steady his voice, taken by the confidence of the young girl in front of him. He tried to continue their conversation, but her mother was already herding her away to get her skates on. His own mother squatted down to rub his back comfortingly, but he wriggled away from her. He took his skates from her and jogged to the ice without another word, arriving at the rink's edge just as Josée was finishing getting her laces tied. Josée was definitely in a league all her own, he decided, as he watched her glide onto the ice gracefully. He was mesmerized for only a moment before quickly lacing up his own skates. He was going to have to work to reach her level, but as he watched her warm up he was sure he'd never wanted anything more in his life.

* * *

 **AN:** Hooray! _And it begins.._ ( **dun dun dun** )

Also, Bonnet is pronounced buh-nay.. (like "bunny" with a French accent hehe)

Leave a review if you can! Even if it's only one word :') I crave it!


	2. Gold Ranger

**Summary:** Josee is invited over for a play date at her new partner Jacques' house, and leaves with something very special.

 **Rating: K**

 **Warnings: Panic Attacks, Vague Mentions of Abuse (?)**

 **AN:** Since a lot of the dialogue has French terms, I've added the definitions below the paragraphs they're used in to make it easier to understand.

* * *

Josée's mother didn't approve of "play dates". As far as she was concerned, Josée should be spending any of the time she didn't already dedicate to her academics and dancing to perfecting her footwork on the ice—but Jacques' mother had insisted. As much as she herself didn't find it relevant, it wasn't totally impossible that Jacques and Josée becoming "friends" would help them work better together as dancing partners. The woman looked up at her rearview mirror and to the tiny, irritated-looking six-year-old sulking in the car seat behind her. She smiled approvingly at her daughter's unhappy attitude about this giant, but apparently necessary, waste of time.

They arrived at the Durant's home shortly, and were greeted by the sight of two older girls playing with a hose in the front lawn. Josée was already annoyed by the idea of wasting valuable practice time playing, but the sight of what she assumed were Jacques' sisters irritatingly reminded her of what she was in store for the day. Her last play date had been with one of her mother's friend's daughters, and she had been a mirror image of the laughing, romping girls to the side of the car. She groaned as deep as her little lungs would let her.

" _Mama_ , do we _have_ to—" Josée started, but was immediately silenced by her mother.

"Josée, I _told_ you to stop asking that. The Durant's may not be as dignified as we are, but Jacques is the best partner we have for you right now. Do _not_ mess this up." Her mother's voice was as stern as always. Josée nodded with an obedient "Yes, _mama_ ", though still begrudged at her situation.

As they exited the car and made their way up the front porch, the girls politely stopped their water fight, as to not catch the well-dressed pair in their crossfire. Their manners did little to impress either of the guests, and Josée sized them up before pouting at the door. She inhaled sharply at one of the girls whispering something about "Jacques' _petite amie_ ", but refused to acknowledge such slander, even as her cheeks started to burn. She squeezed her fingers into a fist in hopes of crushing her fiery temper inside of it. After a few more moments the door opened.

(AN: _petite amie_ – little girlfriend)

"Ah— _Madame_ Bonnet, Josée! So glad you could make it." Jacques' mother greeted them warmly. "Please, come inside, Jacques is just in the other room."

She allowed them into the house before calling for her son, who came scampering in with an excited, nervous smile on his face. It only grew larger as he saw Josée, who's previously bitter expression had lifted into her fake, show-ready smile at the sight of Jacques' mother.

"Josée!" He beamed before running to her and hugging her. Josée's picture perfect appearance faltered a moment from the sudden contact—she was still getting used to this whole "touching outside of professionalism" business. His strong grip on her lasted only a few seconds longer before he parted from her, holding her wrists and smiling with stars in his eyes. "I am so happy you came for a.. 'play date'!"

Josée felt her face heating up again. His French accent was so strong—he pronounced every syllable with such care, and still hesitated to think about proper translations. She didn't understand why he had suddenly started speaking in English, she was perfectly capable of speaking and understanding French. Certainly he had more important things to concern himself with, like their first performance, for example.

"Of course, Jacques." She smiled at him, which only made him beam brighter.

" _Maman_ , can we go play in my room?" He looked to his mother excitedly, not noticing Josée's horrified eyes following him. She had never been in a boy's room before. She looked to her own mother for help, but found none.

" _Mais oui, mon grand._ But keep it down, your _papa_ is working." She hardly finished before Jacques had Josée's hand and was running upstairs. Josée barely managed to bid her mother a quick goodbye before she disappeared from view behind the stairwell.

(AN: _maman_ – mama| _mais oui_ – of course | _mon grand_ – my big boy)

Jacques pushed open the door to his room and let go of his partner's dainty hand, racing inside before turning and posing, arms outstretched, as if to display it to her. He had cleaned up any stray toys or clothes, and was excited to see her reaction to his own little space. He was surprised to see the normally over-confident girl he admired so much peeking in and looking around timidly. She wasn't sure what she expected a boy's room to be like, but it made her feel uneasy.

"Ah.. what do you think, Josée? It is nice, _non_?" He smiled nervously again, hoping upon hope she'd agree. He wanted to impress her so badly. Josée blinked, looking left and right and up and down. She didn't see anything too out of place, though, she would have picked a different color for the walls.

"..Green is not really your color, Jacques." She looked to him, finally stepping within the threshold of the door. He groaned, rolling his back and shoulders to exaggerate his sigh.

"I _know!_ My _papa_ picked it for me when I was younger. I wish they would let me paint it _purple!_ " He huffed, looking at the walls in resentment. Josée smiled at that.

" _Oui_ , purple suits you much better." She nodded to herself, turning to his dresser to look at some pictures. Jacques' big smile returned at that, and his heart fluttered a bit. Maybe this wasn't a lost venture just yet.

He watched Josée observe each picture he had on his dresser—his most recent school picture, one of his parents and him as a baby, and one of him and his grandmother. She didn't comment on any of them, which made him nervous again, but he couldn't see her pretty brown eyes looking at his infant self in wonder. It was funny, she thought, to see her older, much taller partner as such a little, pudgy baby swaddled in a blanket. Josée turned to look at him again, and blinked in surprise when he flinched as a response. He waited a beat before smiling worriedly again.

"Ah.. do you want one of my school pictures? I know it is.. common to.. 'trade' them?" He offered, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat.

"Mm.. No thank you." She responded after some thought. She didn't notice him deflate again while she made her way to a table that he had against the wall on the opposite side of the room. It only took a second to realize it must be where he sews his costumes, as he had bragged to her last week. She picked up a spool of thread and continued her thought. "We will take plenty pictures _together_ after we win the tournament next month."

Jacques felt his heart soar at that. He skipped up behind her, smiling and nodding.

"Ah! _Mais oui, ma cherie!_ And I will smile the smile you have told me to practice!" He beamed said show-ready smile at her, sparkling in hopes of getting even one little compliment from her. Josée raised her head from looking at his sewing table and smiled a much more genuine smile back at him.

"You better, Jacques!" She laughed a little through her nose. "We have to look our best, _mon ami._ "

(AN: _ma cherie_ – my dear| _mon ami_ – my friend)

Jacques clasped her hands in his, making her flinch this time instead. She'd have to work this touchy personality trait out of him. Her thoughts were interrupted as he yanked her closer to him with excited vigor.

"We _always_ look the best, Josée! Because everyone else looks worse!" He grinned wider. Josée stared up at him, slightly taken aback, before laughing. Jacques could feel his stomach flutter at the sound of that perfect, angelic giggle.

"Jacques you are so silly!" She smiled at him again. "Non, we have to look _our_ best! Even if everyone is ugly and talentless, that is no excuse for us to get careless and sloppy."

"Oh.. I misunderstand." Jacques relaxed his grip on her hands. "But.. isn't that unfair then, Josée? We will not only win, but win by a mudslide!"

"—a _landslide_." Josée closed her eyes knowingly, pulling her hands away from him gently. "And even better then! We should _always_ win by a landslide."

Jacques watched his petite partner cross her arms as though she knew all, and in that moment Jacques was sure that she did. He smiled wide again, nodding in agreement.

"You're right Josée, we should always do our very best!" He went to hold her hands again, but Josée evaded his grasp by patting the tops of his hands instead.

"And we need to work on your issues with personal space." Her smile wavered between something smug and sweet. Jacques could only blink in response before she spoke again. " _Now_ —what are we going to do on this.. 'playdate'?"

* * *

Jacques had excitedly drug her to his toy chest at her question, and had spent a good twenty minutes dumping toys out onto her lap and explaining who or what they were. She tried to only roll her eyes a little at his transparent attempt to hide that he obviously still adored his old plush toy of a Saint Bernard, which looked like it had seen kinder days. After none of the toys in his chest had managed to impress her, Jacques took a small stool from under his table and set it in front of a cabinet. He carefully stood on top of it and opened up the top cabinet doors, gently scooping up a colorful array of action figures before hopping back down and laying them out for her to see her. What he brought her, of course, was his very complete set of Power Ranger action figures, which would surely impress her.

Unfortunately not.

* * *

"—and the Red one comes with a sword." He smiled, attaching the sword into the figure's plastic hand. "I like the Pink and Yellow ones best though."

Jacques looked up to Josée and immediately frowned. She was sitting cross-legged with him on the floor, staring in unhappy disinterest at the neatly assorted figures laying before her. Her mother had never saw much value in toys, and only permitted her to have two dolls to practice dressing and hair brushing on, so these plastic toys with their clothes painted on had little worth to her. Jacques scratched the side of his cheek—what could he do to impress her? There had to be something! Suddenly his eyes landed on the rarest figure he had; the Gold Ranger. He smiled again, picking the figure up and offering it to Josée.

"Here! You can be Gold Ranger. He's the best one." He gave the toy a shake, smiling in hopes she'd take it. Josée only blinked, looking at the sparkly gold paint on this figure's uniform. Well, she _did_ like gold—it's all that mattered in life, according to her dear _mama_. She reached out and took the figure from Jacques, much to his delight.

"He's.. the _best_ one?" She questioned, moving one of Gold Ranger's plastic arms back and forth. Jacques beamed at her.

"Oui! He always comes in very er… _theatrically!_ Perfect timing, with cool phrases and saves the team when the enemy's too strong!" Jacques pointed upwards in a pose, in an attempt to mimic the dynamicness of Gold Ranger's character. Josée smiled down at the sparkly toy, more impressed with it now.

"Okay, so.. what do we do then?" She cocked her head to the side slightly, waiting for Jacques to explain the game to her.

* * *

The game 'Pretend' didn't end up being too awfully hard, after some practice. At first she didn't understand the point of enacting scenes with toys, but Jacques explained that it was like acting on a movie set and making your own episode of the show—with no rules! She had suggested that the Rangers dance wherever they go, and Jacques agreed that that would improve everything tenfold. And her character was the best one, so whenever things got too complicated, Gold Ranger just killed everyone and that'd be the end of that. Jacques wanted Gold Ranger and Pink Ranger to kiss, but then got too embarrassed by it and had to go lay face down on his bed.

It was only then Josée noticed that the time was 4 o'clock. She was surprised by that—hadn't it just been noon? She trudged up to Jacques, who was still too embarrassed to raise his head, and shook his shoulder a little.

"Jacques! It's—" Before she could finish, Jacques' mother called up to them to come down and have a snack, which Jacques responded to much quicker than Josée's shaking. He grabbed her hand and bolted downstairs, dragging her down each step as fast as he'd drug her up them when she first got there.

His mother—Leonne, she had insisted Josée call her—had made them some simple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which Jacques ate with enough glutton to earn a disgusted look from his partner. He smiled an apologetic, peanut-butter-and-jelly-smeared grin at her, before wiping his face clean of any remnants of food. Josée had barely gotten halfway through her sandwich when Leonne presented them with some cookies, which Jacques once again devoured with little regard for manners. Josée shrugged in her seat a little, explaining that her mother did not like her to have sweets, but Leonne insisted that one little cookie wouldn't hurt—and that she'd keep it a secret from her mother.

At 4:30PM, Josée's mother arrived to pick her up, and was rather insistent on making a quick exit. No time for "idle chit-chat", because Josée "had homework to finish" was the excuse, but Josée knew that her _mama_ just did not like to be social with such cheery people. Josée got her coat on and turned to say goodbye to Jacques, but was confused to see that he was suddenly absent. She protested that she had to say goodbye to him before they left, but her mother was unfazed.

"You will see him at practice on Monday, Josée." She stared down at her with a cold, questioning look at her daughter's sudden unwillingness to leave.

"But _mama_ I—" Josée tried to argue, but a sudden shout and quick footsteps down the stairs interrupted her.

" _Wait!_ " Jacques yelled, running up to them before they could leave the porch. He smiled, a little red and out of breath from running. "Here."

He presented her with one of his action figures—Gold Ranger! Josée looked down at it in surprise before looking up to him for an explanation. He only smiled wider.

"You can.. you can have him! To keep." He managed between breaths. Josée felt her face go hot, but she took the toy from him anyway, clutching it to her chest.

"But isn't he your.. rarest one?" She looked to him, sure he'd realize his mistake and want it back.

"Oui, but uh.. that's okay. I want you to have him!" He moved to hold her hands again, smiling down at her. "As a gift. He will protect you, _chouchou!_ "

(AN: _chouchou_ – sweetheart/darling)

Josée felt her face burn again—why was he so affectionate and embarrassing? Neither noticed Josée's mother sneer at the display, nor did they notice her unhappy shock at Josée wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug.

".. _merci_ , Jacques." Josée bowed her head a little, curtseying as politely as she could with Gold Ranger in one hand. Jacques bowed back, and watched from the porch with his mother as Josée got into her car with her mother and drove away, already excited for the next time he would get to see her.

(AN: _merci_ – thank you)

* * *

 _Epilogue: A few weeks later...  
_

As much as she tried, she couldn't get her breathing back to normal. She hated that stupid closet more than anything in the world, but when she messed up—like today—mama had to lock her in there for a little while. Otherwise she'd never learn!

But that didn't stop the closet from being dark and cramped and scary.

Josée looked to the door nervously at the sound of her mother downstairs; if she heard her panicking like this, she would surely get angry with her again. Quickly, Josée scrambled to the far side of her big, lacey, pink princess bed and opened the drawer where she kept what her grandmother had called her "Calm Down Time" items. She fished around desperately for something; Bearbear, or her lucky rabbit's foot Bunbun, or even the locket her mama had given her when she graduated to intermediate ice dancing. Instead, her fingers brushed up against something plastic. After a moment she realized what it was. She pulled out the object and was greeted by Gold Ranger's sparkly golden paint. She had completely forgotten she put it in there, but now smiled down at the toy fondly, remembering Jacques' big grin, and the warmth of his hands holding hers so tightly when he promised that this figurine would protect her.

Quietly, she settled onto her side in the center of her bed that was much too big for her, and cuddled Gold Ranger tight against her chest. It was odd how a plastic figurine could feel so warm, she thought, but she opted to not question it, and continued to hold it close to her until she felt safe again.

* * *

 **AN:** Ta-daa! Finally an update, and a 3k word one too!

Hope you guys enjoyed it, the "calm down time" items, and Gold Ranger, are some of my favorite headcanons. :') Leave a review if you can!


	3. Worth It

**Summary:** Jacques has always been the fall guy. (A little ship fodder...) (Ages: 15/17)

 **Rating: K+**

 **Warnings: Injury, Mentions of Abuse**

 **AN:** There's not a ton of French this time, so here's all the translations you'll need!

( _mon petit chou / chouchou_ – my little darling/sweetheart | _merci_ – thank you)

* * *

Josée wailed into her hands in the middle of the Urgent Care waiting room, not out of pain for her injured ankle, but out of fear of what her mother would say when she got there. She was on her way there now, knowing little about her daughter's condition besides that it was her ankle she had hurt. Josée was only grateful for now that they hadn't told her _mama_ what had happened yet, but it was only delaying the inevitable.

Her mother had no idea that it was all _her_ fault. That she had made a careless, _amateur_ mistake dismounting off of Jacques' hip, and then landed just as unprofessionally onto the ice, twisting her ankle in an unnatural way—even for someone as flexible as her. In an instant she felt shooting pain in her right leg, and could only yelp before brutally slamming against the frozen floor. Jacques had immediately been at her side, cooing and fussing over her with affectionate worry—as he was currently doing from the chair next to her. But no amount of care from him would save her when she got home. She sobbed again, wondering how long her mother would lock her in the coat closet for this embarrassment.

" _Ah Josée_ , please don't cry. I know it hurts but—" Jacques' comforting words were interrupted by Josée miserably whining " _No!_ " into her hands. He gave her some time to gather herself, and after a moment she turned to speak to him.

" _No,_ Jacques.. It's not my ankle—" She looked at her bandaged foot in mourning. "—it's my _mama!_ She.. she will be _so_ _angry_ with me, Jacques. Such an amateur mistake! _I'm a sham!_ "

Josée cried into her hands again, her lower lip wibbling pathetically. Jacques quickly pushed her hands away from her face and cupped her cheeks into his own instead. With sad, insulted eyes he wiped away her tears and tried to comfort his trembling partner.

" _Josée!_ _Never_ say that! You are an angel and you know it." He frowned, watching her sniff and refuse to make eye contact with him. He lifted her head a little and gave her a soft smile. "Champions much persevere, _non?_ "

"Oh Jacques.." Josée looked at him sadly, making his smile falter. She was terrified, and he knew it. He had seen her like this before when they were younger, but Josée hadn't slipped up this bad in years. All he could think to do was wipe her tears and kiss her face as adoringly as possible.

"It will be a'kay Josée. Your ankle is only sprained, you'll be back on it in a week! Maybe less!" His comment was supposed to ease her, but only served to instill more fear into her. _A week without Jacques_ , she tried to imagine in horror. There was no way she could survive her mother's berating for that long, not to mention multiple, painfully long stays in the closet to "teach her a lesson".

Without warning she threw her arms around Jacques' neck and buried her face in his shoulder, pulling him closer over the armrests of their respective chairs. Jacques was surprised for just a moment before frowning sadly and returning her hug. His strong arms wrapped around her, cradling her into his chest more comfortably, which seemed to pacify Josée. He rubbed her back, listening to her talk down to herself and conjecture how angry her mother will be when she tells her what happened. Jacques never learned exactly what Josée's _mama_ would do to punish her for her failures, but it didn't matter—all he knew was it took his strong, confident, _beautiful_ Josée and turned her into a whimpering, trembling child again, and that was bad enough. He tried to think of a way to keep her from her mother's wrath, if only this once. After a few minutes he managed to have an idea, though, it would be dangerous. He pulled away from her enough to look at her.

"Josée!" He stared down at her, unsure if he was willing to suggest this. The anxious look in her eyes left his heart with no choice. He held her sides, smiling a little lopsided at his own plan. "— _blame me!_ "

Josée blinked before hunching over, as if to keep their conversation private.

"Are you _crazy!?_ _Mama_ will kill you!" She frowned at him, worried for his sanity. Jacques only smiled back, trying to bite back his nervousness.

" _Non_ , but—your mama already thinks badly of me Josée! And she can't do to me what she does to you." He moved his hands up to her shoulders, squeezing them supportively. Josée looked at his confident expression and had to concede that it was true; mama wouldn't lock him in a closet and insult his footwork night and day. Not that that meant she wouldn't hurt him.

"Jacques! You know how mama is.. She will tantrum and try to _attack_ you!" She placed her hands on his chest, trying to reason with him. Jacques responded by cupping her face again.

"I know, _mon petit chou_.. but if it keeps her from yelling at you, it is worth it." He gave her a brave smile. Josée felt a now-familiar warmth on her cheeks, and smiled back appreciatively.

"Jacjac.." Her smile turned adoring, and she reached up with one hand to touch his cheek. " _Merci_."

She gave him a quick kiss and nuzzled into him, hoping no one else bothered to notice their kiss.

* * *

They cuddled for the remaining time they had, and when Josée's mother arrived, and Josée offered Jacques one more squeeze of support before sitting back in her own chair as poise as ever. Her mother had demanded to know what happened, and as planned Jacques explained through sweat and a nervous smile that he had dropped Josée when she tried to dismount from their pose.

Josée was happy that Jacques was so fit, because the speed that her _mama_ chased him out of that Urgent Care with one of the potted plants from the front desk had to have been a record.

Jacques was happy that despite having a clay pot broken over his back, his _chouchou_ was safe and sound.

Definitely worth it.

* * *

 **AN:** Such a dedicated partner! ;3; And I love having Josee call him "Jacjac".. akin to Bunbun and Rockrock :')

Hope you enjoyed the read! (And quick update this time) Leave a review if you can ;w;


	4. Write Me

**Summary:** Jacques doesn't want to go camping, but Josée has an idea on how to keep in contact. (Ages: 7/9)

 **Rating: K**

 **Warnings: None**

* * *

They had been partners for almost an entire year now! Josée felt so accomplished—almost an entire _year!_ That was better than a good portion of _professional_ ice dancers. Good partnerships in the league were few and far between, and most decent ones broke up after only a few months because of differences in personalities, or performing styles, or work ethics, so her and Jacques' partnership was already special in her eyes. They had gotten paired last September, and now it was summer vacation! With no school for a good two and a half months, they would have so much free time to practice their routine for opening season, and she couldn't wait.

Of course, even with her lucky rabbit's foot Bunbun, luck was not always on her side.

* * *

" _Camping!?_ " Josée gave a devastated cry. How could he? Abandoning her for some outdoorsy adventure with his family up north? She would never forgive him! And of course he was leaving tomorrow with no warning. So rude!

She didn't seem to notice her partner's pitiful pouting as he explained.

"I'm sorry Josée.. I really don't want to!" Jacques sulked, arching forward and offering his hands in apology. "Every year _papa_ makes us go on this _stupide_ trip! He won't let me stay home, even now that I have practice every day! He wants me and him to bond over some _nasty fish_."

Josée watched her friend's downcast eyes as he hung his head in shame, and couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Her mama only took her on "vacations" that held some importance to her future as an Olympic ice dancer—like staying at grand hotels during her tournaments. Never things like amusement parks or beaches, and especially nothing as silly as _camping!_ She took his hands that he had offered to her moments before and gave them an encouraging squeeze.

"Oh Jacques, your family is so _silly_." She gave him a small, sympathetic smile. Jacques stared up at her in confusion, but with eyes elated by her expression. He returned a smile to her.

"It will only be for a week. Then I will be home, and I promise to work extra hard on our routine! I _promise_ , Josée!" He gripped onto her hands, practically sparkling with confidence. Josée smiled wider at that, and moved her hands from his grasp to wrap her arms around him in a hug. Jacques was still surprised by any affection Josée gave him, but quickly returned the hug, enveloping her tiny frame in his much thicker arms. After he gave her a strong squeeze, they separated and Josée stood before him, hands in her lap as politely as ever.

"Will you write me?" She asked him, smiling up at him innocently. Jacques gave her a questioning look again.

"But Josée, we will only be gone for a week. We'll arrive back home before the mail does!" He pointed out, confused.

"So? You can still write me." Josée closed her eyes knowingly. "And I will write you too. We can exchange the letters when you return home."

Jacques felt his heart flutter in excitement, and started nodding before his mouth could move to speak.

"Oh!—then yes! _Mais oui_ , I will write you every day, Josée!" He smiled his now familiar wide grin at her, and Josée clapped at having gotten her way.

"Excellent!" She giggled, unknowingly making her partner's heart do a backflip. "Use your best hand writing, Jacques! And make sure to sign with your signature we've been practicing!"

"Of course, Josée."

* * *

It was Sunday, exactly a week since her dearest partner had left on his little trip, and Josée couldn't keep herself away from the phone. She was laying on her stomach on the bay window seat cushion in the living room, swinging her legs back and forth and staring at the phone. It was an old porcelain rotary phone, decorated with pink roses and gold accents—and it was _very annoying_ , because it had only rang _once_ so far today, and it was a business man calling for her mother, and _not_ her partner Jacques calling to tell her he was home and coming over ASAP. She pouted at it and readjusted herself so she could lay and stare out into the garden instead. It looked warm and lovely outside, with the green grass and flowers all abloom—she felt her cheeks go pink in embarrassment. The idea of running around playing tag or something equally as childish with Jacques flashed through her mind, and she felt sudden shame for fantasizing about those silly games of his that she used to make fun of.

Truth be told, the past week she had been bored out of her mind. Had she always spent the summers just lying about the house? She huffed and sat up on her elbows, looking at the neat stack of exactly seven letters she had laid out in front of her, each addressed in her nicest handwriting to _Jacques_. She felt almost bitter reading his name—where _was_ he!? It was already midafternoon, and he still hadn't called. A pang of fear went through her as she began to worry that he might have gotten in some kind of accident on his trip. He _was_ very prone to getting hurt, and even though it never seemed to faze him…

Suddenly, Josée was feet first on the rug, and running off to her mother's study, where she was currently going over paperwork of some kind.

" _Mama?_ " Josée stood in the doorway, trying to hold herself as politely as she could, even though she was stricken with worry.

".. _yes_ , Josée?" Her mother answered, preoccupied with a letter in front of her. Josée's mouth wibbled. She didn't like to interrupt her mother when she was working, but she needed a second opinion.

" _Mama_ , it's already half past 3 o'clock, and Jacques still hasn't called! Do you think something horrible might have happened to him on his trip?" Her voice was tiny and meek, and despite her best efforts, drenched in concern. Her mother looked up to her, confused at her daughter's apparently random bout of fear.

"I'm sure Jacques is fine. He probably just forgot to call. Lazy little boy…" Her voice trailed off as she returned to her paperwork. Josée was stunned.

She wanted to argue—to tell her mother that Jacques would _never_ forget to call her, and that he was excited to see her after a week of being without each other for the first time since last September—but Josée knew better than to argue with her _mama_. So instead she sulked back to her perch at the bay window and restacked her letters. Perhaps Jacques _did_ forget to call her. Maybe he fell asleep after such a long, boring week without her, and his parents just tucked him into bed without regard for his plans for the rest of his day. Josée chewed her lip and looked at the phone.

…she couldn't help herself.

Josée bounced off the seat again and plucked the phone from its resting place. She had long since memorized Jacques' phone number, and her tiny fingers pressed in the numbers, rotating the dial with each one. She held the receiver to her ear and played with the phone cord while it rang. After a painfully long ten seconds of ringing, she got the Durant's voicemail, and her heart sunk. She set the phone's handle back on its hooks and laid face down on the window seat cushion. Only a few minutes later she was jolted out of her slump by the telephone ringing. She had the receiver to her ear before it could reach its third ring, and managed the well-mannered greeting her mother had taught her, even if it did sound a bit rushed in her excitement.

" _Hello, this is the Bonnet residence, Josée Bonnet speaking!_ " The words felt garbled in her mouth, since surely the caller was Jacques and he knew who he was calling already. Her face pinched a little at the pitiful whine that responded to her.

" _Josée_.." The whiny voice managed with a sniff.

".. _Jacques?_ " Josée felt her gut twist into a knot with concern once more. Had something terrible happened after all?

"Oh Josée.." Jacques whimpered. She could tell he had been crying. "My _maman_ won't let me come over today! I begged and begged but she says it's too late and I have to wait until tomorrow!"

Josée felt relief that he wasn't injured, but then immediate sadness. Tomorrow already felt like an eternity.

"...but it's been a whole week already!" Josée pouted, as though arguing would do any good. Jacques only cried in response.

" _I know!_ They won't listen!" He whined, mumbling the last half of his sentence. "I'm sorry Josée, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay.." Josée frowned at the ground. Jacques gave her a quick goodbye and hung up, obviously too distraught to talk. She couldn't blame him—she felt like she had rock in her chest. Her eyes started to burn with tears at the disappointed feeling in her heart, but she refused to let them fall. Crying was for little babies, and she would just have to suck it up!

So she gathered her letters and trudged upstairs, bundling herself up in a big, pouty ball of blankets. She didn't want to complain to her mother, because she knew the response would be getting told that "it's just one more day", and to "stop acting like a baby", and to "stop depending on Jacques so much", and that "men were expendable". As confident as Josée was that her _mama_ knew everything, she was sure she must be mistaken about Jacques. Her mother always said that boys where stupid, and replaceable—but Jacques wasn't like any boy she had ever known. He adored her, and went out of his way to make her laugh and smile, and she couldn't imagine being without him.

Not even for one more night.

Josée bundled up more, squeezing her eyes shut to keep herself from crying. It just wasn't fair! Didn't his parents understand that they had plans for that afternoon? They were so _greedy_! They had spent an entire week dragging him around in mucky swamps—or wherever it was people went camping—and now it was _her_ turn to be with him! She could feel her head getting hotter and her fists trembling, and she knew a tantrum was brewing inside of her. If only to keep herself from crying, she let it out. It wasn't the biggest tantrum she had ever had, but it was enough to put her to sleep, which as far as she was concerned, was all the rest of this wretched day was worth anyway.

* * *

She was woken up by her mother an hour later.

"Josée, for the love of gold, _wake up_." Her voice was commanding and irritated. Josée blinked her eyes open, and sat up in the pile of feathers that used to be her pillow. She was confused to see that the light pouring into through her bedroom window was warm and orange, not the bright white of early morning. She looked to her mother for an answer, and was greeted by an annoyed lip curl.

"Your _partner_ is downstairs." Her mother informed her, irritated at having to pause her work to rouse her sleeping daughter. Josée's eyes widened in shock before glistening over in delighted surprise.

" _Really, mama?_ " She smiled and sat up more.

"..yes, _really_. Haven't you been expecting him all day?" She gave her daughter a curious look. Josée only beamed up to her, remembering then that she hadn't told her mother about Jacques cancelling earlier.

"Oui _mama!_ Oui, I have!" She giggled, unable to contain her excitement. She quickly gathered up her letters, four of which were scattered on the other side of the room, and ran downstairs, leaving a trail of feathers behind her.

She almost squealed at the sight of Jacques and his mother waiting in the living room. She ran to him arms outstretched and slammed against his front, squeezing him with the tightest hug she could manage without crumpling the envelopes her hands. Jacques eagerly returned her hug, squeezing her as though he would lose her if he let go. They released each other in perfect unison and smiled to one another. Josée noticed how puffy his eyes were, and how red his nose was, both obviously from his crying earlier.

"Oh, I'm sorry for my delay Josée! Forgive me." Jacques smiled down to her with a sniff. Josée only bounced forward to hug him again, giggling into his chest. She had no idea how he had managed to get here, but she didn't care—he _had_ , and just for her, no doubt! Jacques smiled down at her adoringly, relieved to have redeemed himself for disappointing her earlier. Their mothers spoke for a moment, but Josée couldn't be bothered to listen in. Instead, she grabbed her friend's hand and tugged him to the bay window where she had waited most of the day for him. She crawled up onto the cushion, expecting him to do the same. After he was seated beside her she clasped his hands, a bad habit of his she'd picked up over the past year.

"Jacques, how do you get your parents to change their mind?" Josée asked excitedly, looking up at him with adoring interest. He couldn't help but respond with a dopey smile.

"I.. I um.. I just.. convinced them to let me come.. just until dinner.." His smitten expression remained as he tried to talk. Of course he wasn't going to tell her that he had laid face down on his bed sobbing his lungs out until his parents finally relented—that was much less heroic sounding. Josée seemed more than satisfied with this answer anyway.

" _Oh Jacques_ , you are so _wonderful_." She hugged his hands to her cheek, making his heart jump inside of his chest. He hadn't seen her this affectionate since they won their first tournament back in February! He smiled wider, feeling his cheeks tingling with a blush.

"O-oh Josée.. _non_ , _you_ are wonderful.." He couldn't even keep looking at her. After a week of being apart, being together again felt like too much at once—like being unable to breathe, and when you can finally inhale you get lightheaded.

Eventually Josée pried herself from his knuckles, and eagerly asked him about his trip. Instead of answering, Jacques presented her with seven slightly wrinkled envelopes. Josée couldn't help but squeal, and grabbed them from him excitedly. She offered him the ones she wrote and scooted up against the window paneling, preparing to read his letter.

* * *

She didn't know why she thought this idea would be anything less than embarrassing.

She had decided to read the letters aloud, despite her partner's mortified pleading against it. He's just too sensitive about his feelings—adoring her isn't anything to be ashamed of!

Jacques had described his days on his trip as humid, boring, and monotonous—and rather disgusting, she might add. His father apparently loved fishing, which included beheading, deboning, and gutting all of the ones he caught. Jacques was definitely not a fan, and she had laughed at the disgusted face he made as she read his own words to him. Her cheeks tingled and her heart fluttered a little at how many different ways he tried to describe how much he missed her throughout the days. He was still learning English, so his metaphors weren't the best, but she adored his attempts despite how little sense they made.

But the embarrassing part came when Jacques decided to read her letters aloud as well. She tried to convince herself that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but that huge smile and giddy tone in his voice while he read over her words made it difficult to not fidget. Did she really write all of those desperate sounding words? "I miss you-", "I think about you when-", "I wish-", "I wonder-"—it all sounded like one big, gooey love note! By the time he was finishing her last letter, she was practically on top of him, whacking him and demanding that he stop reading immediately. Of course, Jacques couldn't resist teasing her, and continued to read her last few sentences.

"—I'm so excited to see you tomorrow, _Jacjac_. And we'll talk and talk, and dance around in the yard like we always do—"

" _Stop it, Jacques!_ " Josée wailed in between her protesting shrieks.

"—and you better have brought me something nice! From Josée, _with love_." His voice lowed mockingly at "with love" and he puckered his lips out teasingly, unable to hold back the urge to 'baby talk' her. Josée whined impossibly loud before flopping on him in an embarrassed pile. Jacques only laughed and hugged her with one arm, still holding the letter out of her reach with the other. Josée kicked her legs out a few times, unable to even keep still through her humiliation.

"I hate you, you're the _worst!_ " She cried, beating on his chest lightly. "I don't even know _why_ I missed you!"

" _Aww_ , Josée do not say that.." Jacques leaned against her head, his own cheeks tingling from smiling so much. He wrapped his other arm around her and gave her a squeeze. "I missed you so much as well!"

" _Shut up you're awful!_ " Josée whined into his collar, but didn't fight his hug. Jacques sighed happily and tried to pry her off of him without success.

" _Aww!_ Josée come out of there! I _did_ bring you something!" He laughed as she continued to cling to him. Her head popped up at that, and she stared at him with watery eyes.

"You did?" She asked while rubbing one of her eyes with the back of her hand. His heart swelled. She was _so adorable_.

" _Oui, mon petit chou!_ " He grinned and tried to sit her up on her heels. Josée tried to ignore how silly that nickname made her feel while Jacques dug into his pocket. After a moment he pulled out a shiny, white river rock. Josée stared at it as he presented it to her, watching its surface gleam a little in the sunlight. She took it from him to inspect it.

"What is it?" She questioned, tilting her head and turning the stone over in her hand.

"It's a river stone! The shiniest one I could find. I found it while _papa_ was trying to show me how to untangle fishing line." He leaned over, looking at it shine in Josée's petite hand. "Do you like it?"

Josée looked up to him from her hand, and couldn't help but smile at his eager grin. He was always so eager to please her, to show her how much he cared…

" _Oui_ , Jacques. It's very pretty." She moved forward to hug him again. "I love it— _merci_."

She felt is arms encircle her again, and breathed out a relaxed sigh. She honestly didn't have much interest in a river rock, but to have her beloved partner and closest companion with her again was gift enough, in her opinion.

Just don't tell _him_ that.

* * *

 **AN:** An update! Had to move this one to Chapter 3 to keep things chronological.

I got a little carried away with this chapter but.. oh well! Can't have too much baby Ice Dancers, can we? This time from Josée's POV more than Jacques' Let me know what you think! :)


	5. Defensive

**Summary:** Josée receives some unwanted comments from another dancer. (Ages: 8/10)

 **Rating: K**

 **Warnings: None**

 **AN:** ( _fantastique –_ fantastic | _mon petit chou_ – my little darling/sweetheart | _Mais oui!_ – Of course!)

* * *

Jacques had always been a passive boy—just ask his partner, Josée. He would bend over backwards to please her, to get her anything her little heart desired. He gave up playdate after playdate with his schoolyard friends to practice routines with her, held himself how she taught him to, wore clothes that she asked him to, smiled how she instructed him to, and spoiled her with all the gifts his allowance could afford. But _this_.. _this_ was enough to send him over the edge. His ears were still ringing—could someone use such words in a sentence like that? He couldn't even process it.

They were at the rink. He had been standing beside Josée—his favorite place to be—as she bragged to another female skater about their superior Lutz jumps. She had every right to brag, he thought, and by the look the other girl had had on her face, she knew it too. Maybe that's why she got snippy? He didn't know, and he didn't care.

All he knew was as Josée crossed her perfect little arms like she was oh-so wise, like she always did, this girl stuck up her nose and gave her a condescending grin and told her:

"Well, even if that _was_ true, it doesn't matter because you'll never be performance worthy with that big _nez crochu_ of yours."

(AN: _nez crochu_ – hooked nose)

She then lowered her head straight again and looked right at Josée with the fakest giggle he'd ever heard, and said:

"It makes you look like _une vieille chouette_."

(AN: _une vieille chouette_ – an old witch/hag)

Josée looked shocked—he did too.

And he was still shocked as the seconds ticked by. Josée's perfect, beautiful nose curled as she gave this putrid girl her best snarl and started to retort, but it all sounded muffled to Jacques. He felt like he couldn't get enough air in after that ugly comment knocked the wind out of him. As he started to get his breath back, he felt himself get very, very hot. It felt like every time he had thrown a fit over not getting a toy he wanted, or having to go fishing, or having to go to his grandma's house—but it felt.. _different_. There was no build up, no arguing back and forth with _maman_ or _papa_ until he burst into a tearful tantrum, just this girl changing his mood from proud and bubbly to.. _angry_. So, _so_ angry.

He clenched his fists at his sides as Josée continued to argue with this girl. No matter what Josée said, her flushed face seemed to only confirm to the other girl that she had picked the right thing to insult her about. Jacques couldn't stand it—how dare this pathetic dancer pretend for even a _second_ she was superior to his Josée? He stepped forward, having to lean down to get in her face.

"How _dare_ you speak to Josée in such a way!" He screamed at her, surprising her and Josée alike. He brought a fist up in righteous defiance. "Josée's nose is _regal_ and _beautiful!_ You are just jealous because you have the snout of a _pig!_ "

Both girls' eyes widened even more in shock, though Josée's expression quickly changed to one of cruel delight. She had never heard Jacques speak in such a harsh, commanding manner. It reminded her of herself, or her mother. Jacques leaned down more.

"Josée is an _angel_ , and you are just an _ugly_ , _freckle-faced_ _ **amateur!**_ " He growled. The girl stood petrified, probably never having been yelled at by a boy in her life, before her eyes welled up with tears and she ran away to her coach, much to Josée's delight. Jacques straightened his posture a little, sneering after her before his malicious thoughts were interrupted by Josée hugging his arm in a tight squeeze.

"Oh Jacques, that was _fantastique!_ " She gushed up at him from below his shoulder. Jacques' breathing began to even out as he smiled at her. She was staring up at him with the biggest, shiniest eyes in the world—how could anyone even imply she was anything less than a princess?

"It was.. nothing.. _mon petit chou._ " He smiled bashfully, his passive personality rekindled by her praising. Josée giggled at the pet name and hugged him tighter.

" _Non_ , not "nothing"! You were so assertive, Jacjac!" She beamed. Jacques couldn't help but want to melt at her nickname for him, which was very similar to the name she'd given her rabbit's foot 'Bunbun'.

"You think so?" He grinned back, his cheeks still flushed, but no longer from anger.

" _Mais oui!_ " She squealed, bouncing around with him while she drug him to a nearby bench.

He accepted her praises while they waited for his mother to pick them up from practice. He rolled his eyes as the girl's coach approached her when she arrived. He had no apologies for that bratty girl, not even after his mother confronted him about it after her talk with the girl's coach. He didn't care if he's "not supposed to yell at girls" or "he should have told an adult". As far as he was concerned, anyone who insults Josée _should_ be crying.

* * *

 **AN:** Finally an update! Sorry about the wait guys, and sorry about the confusion with the reordering of chapters VS review pages not reordering. I don't know why doesn't change the reviews when you move chapters, but I've since moved it back and just put the chronologic order in the fic summary. Sorry again! :')

Anyway, Jacques goes a little too hard defending Josée from a "bully".. he needs to relax. :3c


	6. Waxing

**Summary:** Josee has to start waxing. (Ages: 12/14)

 **Rating: K+**

 **Warnings: None**

 **AN:** ( _fantastique –_ fantastic | _magnifique –_ magnificent | _mon petit chou_ – my little darling/sweetheart | _nounours –_ teddybear)

* * *

When her mother told her that she would have to give 110% in order to be a world renowned ice dancer, Josée had agreed wholeheartedly. She had done everything her dear _mama_ had asked of her for nearly a decade now, putting any resemblance of a social life on the backburner as she spent all of her time on either a dancefloor, balance beam, gym mat, or ice rink. Thankfully, her best friend was also her partner in all of this, otherwise she would be hopelessly antisocial by now.

But Josée knew that it wasn't enough to be physically able—you had to be _beautiful_ , too. Her mother had been grooming her since she was toddler; brushing and tying her hair into perfectly tight and efficient ponytails and buns, and decorating them in elegant pearls, clips, and bows. She had instructed her on how to apply makeup, and what colors to use. Bright, shiny, and thick makeup was best—it was easy for the crowd to see. And as of last year she was also expected to keep any facial hair plucked, after she started growing some because of _stupide_ puberty.

But plucking was no longer enough, evidently.

She had asked her mother when she would start shaving her legs and underarms, as some of her other classmates had started to do. After her mother inspected said areas with cold concentration, she abruptly informed Josée would have to start waxing her body hair— _everywhere_. In a panic, Josée tried to argue, something she rarely did with her mother, but was quickly dismissed. Shaving would lead to ingrown hairs, and thicker stubble as time wore on. Waxing was the only option for professionals.

"I'm so _scared_ , Jacjac!" Josée cried tearlessly into his chest. "All the articles say waxing hurts _so much!_ I don't want to do it!"

Jacques didn't know what to do. He was used to Josée throwing fits by now, but this one seemed fairly justified. Josée wasn't even a hairy girl—he would know, they changed in front of each other all the time! A few underarm hairs and thin, soft leg hairs was hardly what he thought of when he imagined someone in desperate need of hair removal.

"I'm sorry, Josée!" He frowned, patting her back like always. "I know it's unfair, but you can do it! You're the toughest person I know! Except maybe my _papa_.."

Admittedly, he didn't think his _papa_ would wax, but—

"It's not _fair!_ " Josée screamed, knocking him out of his thoughts. "You're _much_ hairier than me, and _you_ don't have to wax!"

Jacques chuckled a little at her huffy face.

"Well, I am a _man_ , Josée. And male dancers don't—well I supposed _some_ male dancers wax, but I—"

"—Jacques!" Josée interrupted suddenly.

Jacques looked down at her and was a little taken aback by her excited, curious expression.

".. _oui?_ "

"Would you.. come with me?" Josée cracked a hopeful smile and squeezed his shirt, eyes shining brighter.

"Like.. come into the spa with you when you go?" He raised a brow in confusion.

" _Non_ , silly! Would you come to get waxed _with_ me!" She bounced a little, already expecting him to say 'yes'. Jacques was horrified.

"W-what? But—why should I—Josée this is unreasonable!" He could feel the back of his neck starting to sweat. Like she said, he was _much_ hairier than she was, and any waxing treatment would be infinitely worse for him than her! How was that fair?

"Aw _please_ , _nournours?_ " Josée tilted her head to the side, resting her temple against his chest. " _Please_ , I don't want to go alone!"

Jacques' heart was pounding. He hardly ever said 'no' to Josée, and she was giving him her usual adorable pleading face—the one where she already knows his answer is 'yes'. He swallowed and looked away.

"How.. how much of my hair would get waxed? All of it?" He pouted. He was so proud of his manly body hair. Josée giggled and hugged him, well aware she had him sunk already.

"All the places I have to get waxed, of course!" She smiled up at him happily. Jacques frowned at her worriedly.

"But Josée—my legs and underarms have much more hair than yours do!" He sulked more as she snuggled him, moving her arms from around his middle to his neck. Arguing was pointless, he was going to go do this with her whether he liked it or not.

* * *

Jacques sat nervously with a crisp white towel wrapped around his waist. To his side was an equally nervous Josée, with a matching white towel pulled up over her chest. They were trying to distract themselves by looking at the luxury spa's décor, but it wasn't fabulous enough to take their minds off the impending torture they assumed they'd be going through shortly. Jacques swallowed and looked down towards Josée, who anxiously looked up at him in return. After a moment, two employees greeted them cheerfully. They were two girls who looked to be in their twenties, and glowed with a healthy radiance. They looked over their appointment sheets a moment and started prepping the wax.

"Full Body's for both of you?" One asked with a chipper smile. Jacques and Josée smiled nervously and nodded.

" _Magnifique!_ " The other piped up, snapping on a pair of gloves. The sound made both dancers jump up, and Josée snatched Jacques' hand to squeeze like a stress ball. The employees instructed them to lay on their backs on their respective waxing tables, and they did as they were told, still holding hands across the space between the tables. As the girls prepped more, Jacques and Josée whispered to one another.

"Jacjac I'm so nervous." Josée pouted at him, holding her towel tightly.

"M-me too, _mon amie_." Jacques trembled a little. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but he couldn't take the idea of Josée all alone being as scared as she was. His want to back out couldn't beat out his love for his dearest partner, so there he stayed, despite shivering with fear.

Both were quickly disrupted from their comforting last words by the spa employees. They gave them a quick pep talk, seeing that this was their first waxing, and then instructed them to lift their arms. Jacques and Josée kept their hands locked, but now raised over their heads like when they were accepting gold on the podium. Jacques turned and frowned at Josée's measly group of thin hairs in her underarm past his own tuft of armpit hair. This was totally unfair! Why were the odds always stacked against him?

The girls started rubbing an oil over their skin, saying it would keep the wax from sticking, and thus made the process hurt less. That relieved the pair a little and they smiled at each other reassuringly. Then, the employees spread a thick purple goo over their underarm hair. Upon seeing the teens confused faces, they explained that it was a "hard wax", and would also make the process less painful. The pair didn't seem very convinced, but the warmth of the wax felt almost nice on their panicking skin. The employees gave them a countdown, and then swiped the layer of wax off in unison.

Josée's shriek gagged in the back of her throat, but Jacques' did not. Josée looked at him in shocked embarrassment, and Jacques quickly bit his finger to muffle his sobs. The employees offered comforting words, but it did little to help him. Another strip of wax was smoothed over their pits, and with another swipe, Jacques screamed for his mother.

Josée felt her cheeks reddening from embarrassment at his outbursts. This wasn't anywhere near as bad as the magazines said! Painful, yes, but nothing like a twisted ankle, or being dropped head first onto the ice. Jacques was always such a baby.

He managed to yelp through every wax strip on their armpits, and a tiny peep escaped him while their eyebrows got done. Josée teared up a little when they did her lip, but blinked back the tears. She was _no_ baby, and she did _not_ cry!

Then came legs. Josée admitted that the waxing of her leg hair hurt considerably more than her armpits. Maybe Jacques' treatment was worse because his hair was thicker... everywhere. It didn't give him the right to cry and scream though! Jacques begged to differ, and sobbed into his palm while his waxer finished his second leg. After she finished, both employees said what the duo had been dreading;

"Alright you two, towels up! We're doing the Bikini now." They smiled just as gleefully as before. Jacques was starting to suspect they were sadists.

Josée squeezed his hand and they looked at one another with worried expressions. Jacques managed to smile supportively and give her hand a squeeze back. Josée returned a nervous smile and they both tugged their towels up. They were then told to "butterfly their legs", which was basically putting their feet together and bringing their heels up to their respective butts, with their knees lying flat on the table. Of all the poses they'd learned to not be embarrassed about, this was not one of them, especially while being nude below the waist. They stared off into space awkwardly, and squeezed each other's hand tightly as they prepared for what was to come.

"I love you, Josée." Jacques whispered sadly, as though he might die. Josée didn't have the breath to tell him he was an idiot. The employees gave them a warning again, and upon ripping the wax off, two high-pitch shrieks echoed in the room.

"Hah-hah! That wasn't so bad." Josée laughed, now that her skin wasn't aching from forceful hair removal. It also helped that they were going to go enjoy a nice sauna to open up their pores, and then a scrub to get any remnants of oil and hair out.

"I… _guess_." Jacques waddled behind her, keeping his gait wide as he walked. Truthfully, it was only painful for the second that it was happening, and most of his tears were out of fear. But there were a lot of _seconds_! And his groin was still sore. His lip wibbled in remorse—he had _just_ grown all that hair!

"All my manly body hair…" He mourned softly again.

"Oh be quiet you big baby!" Josée scoffed and tugged up her towel again. 'Manly body hair' indeed! Jacques grumbled a little in response, but nothing she could make out. As they found their way to their private sauna, Josée stopped short of opening the door. Jacques raised a brow at her in confusion while he waited for her to enter the room. Suddenly she turned around and popped up on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

" _Merci, nounours_." She smiled up at him appreciatively. He might be a big baby, but she didn't know any boys his age that would give up their freshly grown 'manly body hair' for anyone. _Mama_ always said they were such babies about pain too, but Jacques persevered for her!

Jacques gave her a lopsided smile and opened the door for her, bowing graciously. Josée giggled and bounced into the sauna, followed shortly by her partner.

* * *

 **AN:** Epilogue would be Jacques rubbing his face all over his own leg and sighing "smooooooth :)"

Speaking from personal experience, waxing is a _pain!_ But ice dancers need to be as aerodynamic as possible, right? Well, at least ice dancers as obsessed with appearances and winning as Jacques and Josée do! LOL

Jacques is still happy with his armpit hair when he's allowed to have it, but Josée always thinks it should be waxed.


End file.
